Mirror
by Skelegirl
Summary: It wasn't vanity. You were merely in love with something impossible to happen. ;Oncest;


Hello guys. Sorry for the long wait, life has been crazy, along with me switching some of my stories to Deviantart and Quotev. This is dedicated to anyone who cares. Reviews fuel me to make more, and help me get better!

Disclaimer: I don't own the Lorax.

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It's raining. It's raining and the remaining trees of fluff are hanging low because of the bellowing winds and the occasional trash and swept up machines. The clouds are a thundering blizzard if green and blue flashes, vibrant compared to the polluted clouds.

You try to remember time when you are a child, looking up at bleached cloud as raindrops pattered against your round nose, but you can't. You try to remember cottony flowers, push too-green grass and swirling water, but you don't.

The only thing you remember is your reflection.

For many years you've fallen in love with your reflection; giving "masturbation" and "go fuck yourself" a whole new meaning. You'd stare at azure eyes and a button nose; thinking _how gorgeous_ and then seeing pink petal lips begging for your own.

Kissing the glass helped for a while, until you were tired of touching cold glass. You wanted more. So, when you turned fourteen, you touched in ways no one would ever touch you. You made things to make it feel more real, more like a two-person job.

It wasn't' vanity. You were merely in love with something impossible to happen. Something that happened in one in a million. Something you'd need a doctor for.

And it was hard most of the time. Nearing eighteen, you sucked on your arms to fall asleep. You were in so much need you could barely walk. The only thing that helped you was your base. You played and played, splaying your fingers across the neck, gripping the body with a carefree style.

After your birthday you left with an idea on your mind and the possibility Mother might be proud of you. You built it yourself. You hadn't touched yourself in the week. You were done with this infatuation. It was time to get real.

There were no others.

You reach the wonderland of assaulting colors, the walking fish, the baby bear, and the Lorax. A few months in and you ruined the place. Creating machine to kill the beautiful trees, to taint the waters and pierce the skies.

So what if a few trees die?

They could do nothing. They only watched in horror and fascination how you destroy yourself and the environment. And you lost everything. Friends, family, and animals left until the wind was his only companion.

And at twenty-three years old, you already died. No one loves you, no one cares.

You walk to the mirror like a zombie, glasses hanging loosely around your ears, feet shlumping over each step. Emerald suit hanging around your skeletal frame. Hang is the word you'd describe your style.

"Hi."

He greets the dirty mirror with a halfhearted wave. The Once-ler waves back. He looks great, with her patterned slacks and an old dress shirt. His vest has a little dust on it but he looks as handsome as ever.

"I like… your face. I'd really like to sell you." Your voice isn't the same. It' evil and crackling and your teeth are pointed like rats. You wish you turned into one. Although you'd probably die.

He smiles. And you try to so the same but your lips are not acting right.

"I bet you would," Is his easy, laid-back reply. Remember how your voice used to be now?

"I haven't talked in a while. So much shit has happened, it isn't even funny." You swear now. It gets things across more.

"Why? Scared of your own feelings?" He jokes breezily, waving his hand in a carefree way. He must not be stressed. He looks so youthful and he doesn't have any bags under his eyes. He looks free.

"No I'm not." Your sharp reply. You steamroll it. "I didn't even think of you."

"You've been gone for three years. You don't have a right to make excuses!" The Once-ler snaps back. He waves a finger.

"Oh but I'm telling the truth. I'm a rich, sharply-dressed KING, who is loved by almost all. You are a poor, unloved farm boy willing to prove himself by acting batshit crazy!"

"Ouch. That hurt." The Once-ler says, hurt swirled around his handsome features. "Do you even know what you're saying? I'm you. You are me. Which means…..? You hate yourself before you became a powerful monster?"

"I'm not a monster." Was your deadened reply. "You don't even exist!"

"So who's the crazy one?"

You growl. 'I will smash this mirror." You say as serious as you can. You squint and glare at the Once-ler.

"You wouldn't." The Once-ler says in a angry tone. He crosses his lanky arms and stares at you.

"No, I wouldn't." You slump against the nearest ratty wall next to the mirror. You can't see him but you know he's still there.

"It's been a lot of years since you touched me," The Once-ler's voice is quiet. And then he's silent. You can hear the wind blowing softly through the broken (products of his rages) windows and the ajar door he failed to close.

"Yes. And I never will. That was a sick and vain illness I was going through. I will never do that again." You repeat your therapist's advice; knowing it's just smart enough to trick him.

He smirks. "That doesn't sound like you~" He replies with a saucy smirk upon his lips. Suddenly you feel the old urge to kiss him. It dies.

"You are right." You smash your right fist into the left of the mirror, cracking the smart white. Splayed across the Once-ler's face is pure horror. If you could even call it that.

"Stop it!" Come on!" His wails increase as your incessant punching to snap the mirror into shards.

"I'm sick of you, lurking around MY house, telling ME what I am, and looking like that!" A shard of glass, reflecting the fading light, falls to the ground.

"Sick yourself, Now that's sick." The Once-ler says hastily. "I mean, I thought you loved me!"

And you look up, breathing heavily, glasses hanging around your jaw as poisonously green eyes stare back at the young man. Your teeth are pointed sharp, even more so than a rats. Your claws grip the sides of the mirror now, biting into the wood.

"I have never loved you." And you snap the mirror in half with a little less effort. The Once-ler looks back at you, and says rather coldly for his peppy atmosphere: "Well then, even if you hate yourself, I'll always love myself. Which as confusing as that is…. I still love you."

You start to reply, but a huge clap of thunder, and a blinding bolt of lightning blind your eyes. You stumble backward, swearing. As throbbing bulbs of light dances around your vision, you glance at the mirror.

The mirror is black.


End file.
